


give a little, get a lot

by afterism



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Enemies to enemies who sleep together, F/F, Fairies, Involuntary Orgasms, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 08:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20288113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterism/pseuds/afterism
Summary: The scroll had appeared on her pillow a few minutes after she woke up, the same size as her little finger and shedding glitter like a dog sheds fleas, and in the space for a signature there was an iridescent smudge, like someone had squashed a fairy into the paper.





	give a little, get a lot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElasticElla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/gifts).

> All of your requested tags were glorious, but the combination of 'Character Discovers Superpower They Never Knew They Had In The Most Awkward Way Possible' and 'Fighting a villain whose superpower is causing involuntary orgasms is awkward' was particularly :chefskiss:

"You're going to have to do better than that," the fairy says.

Isabella, flushed and sticky and tired, says nothing. All the stories she's heard of the Fairy Kingdom describe it as a paradise; a place where the air is sweet, the plants are lush, the very soil glittering with life -- and it is, if you're a mushroom.

She grits her teeth and swings her sword down through another tangle of vines. The fronds curl back with a withered kind of hiss, turning from jewelled green to black where her blade sliced through them, but the fairies don't seem to mind. They dart around, no bigger than mosquitoes, dropping glitter wherever they land and chattering in their tiny, high-pitched voices. Isabella is covered in it, her arms and hair and sword shimmering with every movement.

It's slow going. This kingdom wasn't made for anything bigger than a mouse, so Isabella has to clear the path for every step, and it doesn't help that whoever described the air as sweet meant it in the same way that fresh manure is sweet; it's hot and cloying and inescapably earthy.

"It's only two breaths away, why are you taking so long," another fairy says, zipping past Isabella's ear.

Isabella swings her sword again, and reminds herself that you really shouldn't swat an endangered species.

Another step, a few more hacks, and if she moves her head in the right way she can almost see something dark and solid up ahead.

"How did Madalena get through?" Isabella asks, as the thought bubbles up like gas in a stagnant pond. It feels like she's been at this for days, everything sluggish and automatic because if she thinks too much she'll probably stop and turn around and go home -- but the one good thing about the tiny fairies is that their kingdom is equally small. This morning, before she started, Isabella walked around the edge of the whole vine-entangled forest in less than an hour.

The closest fairy bobs up and down a few inches, like a shrug. "She appeared," it says.

Much like the note demanding Isabella come and save them, then. The scroll had appeared on her pillow a few minutes after she woke up, the same size as her little finger and shedding glitter like a dog sheds fleas, and in the space for a signature there was an iridescent smudge, like someone had squashed a fairy into the paper.

She's not as sorry about that as she was earlier.

Legend has it, at the centre of the (lush, verdant, _stinking to high heaven_) Fairy Kingdom there is a cave, and inside the cave (past untold wonders and trials and an elaborate musical number, etc) there is your heart's desire, a treasure of unlimited power, the key to the universe -- the usual vague promises.

Apparently Madalena, after vanishing for several months, has turned up there, and is upsetting the locals.

Isabella twirls her sword, her arms aching, her dress uncomfortably damp, her hair sticking to her skin, and moves forward.

"Why are you so slooooooow," another fairy (or possibly the same one, it's like trying to tell tadpoles apart) whines, circling around Isabella's head a few times to draw out the drone, and if Isabella hits it while she's pushing her hair off her face it's pure coincidence.

She can see the solid thing up ahead, at least -- although it's mostly a dark, gaping cavern jutting out of the earth, framed by a seam of grey rock that's barely taller than she is. It's covered in ferns and mushrooms and glitter, but the entrance to the cave is surgically clear, like someone recently swept through and blasted past anything in their way.

"I've ridden snails faster than you," the fairy says, as Isabella stops for just a second to catch her breath, and this time she swats it away without thinking -- and then she pauses, swallows, and cuts through the last of the clambering vines with a guilty swiftness.

The cave, when she can see it clearly, drops sharply downwards, the mossy earth giving way to jagged rocks and endless shadows. It abruptly occurs to her that _Madalena_ is down there, and Isabella is suddenly, acutely, aware of how sweaty and tired and glittery she is.

"Go! Go on! Go!" the fairies chant, buzzing like wasps.

Isabella gathers her courage, wrapping it around her like armour, and descends. It's dark and treacherous, small rocks skittering away under her feet, and she has to sheath her sword and hold onto whatever she can to clamber down, but -- small mercies -- the fairies linger at the entrance, trilling and squeaking with what (she optimistically assumes) might be encouragement.

Her eyes adjust, slowly. The light from the mouth of the cave spills down around her and she finds footholds easily enough, and as the air gets colder and clearer she finds the irritation in her shoulders slipping away, her lungs breathing easier, that flutter of excitement growing low in her stomach.

The scramble of rocks levels out, eventually, as the light from above disappears behind an outcrop of granite. Isabella squints as she finds her feet and tries to work out why her eyes are playing tricks on her.

There must be a different kind of fairy down here; they glow in flashes, sparks of green and blue and purple, and they dart close to whisper and zip away again just as fast. She can't make out what they're saying, but she can watch the dance of them touching the walls and showing the way forward -- and then Isabella gasps, and flattens herself against the rough wall. There's a light, warm and piercing, creeping up from down in the darkness, and a voice:

"I am going to destroy _every single one of you_," Madalena hisses, storming into view. She swipes her free hand through the air, holding the lantern low to watch where she's going, and Isabella can see the tiny dots of colour spirling around Madalena's head.

Madalena hasn't even seen her. Isabella is outside the pool of light, a shadow among shadows, and if she stays perfectly still she could -- she could --

"Stop!" Isabella shouts, stepping into the light. "The fairies of this realm are under my protection!"

Madalena jerks to a stop, and blinks. She holds the lantern up higher, and says, "What."

And then, "Why do you look like you just escaped a pride parade?"

And then, "_What_? What fairies?"

Isabella, standing tall as she can, chin up, a hand on the hilt of her sword, opens her mouth, and closes it again.

"This is the Fairy Kingdom," Isabella says, after a beat. "They are endangered, sentient creatures, and I won't let you terrorise them any longer."

Madalena tilts her head to one side, and it looks like she's studying the tiny lights that are still dancing around her.

"Is _that_ what those tiny voices are? Thank God for that," Madalena says, wiping the back of her wrist across her forehead. "I thought I was developing a conscience."

To be quite honest, Isabella didn't know what to expect when she started out on this adventure, but it certainly wasn't this.

"Leave, before I make you regret ever coming here," Isabella says, and draws her sword like punctuation.

Madalena looks from the tip of the sword to Isabella's face, and _smiles_.

"Do you know," Madalena says, setting the lantern down on a rock beside her and curling her fingers around the amulet resting on her chest, "that I didn't really know what I was going to do with this once I found it?"

Isabella darts a glance down to it. In the slanted light it looks old and dull, just a lump of brassy metal incongruous against the delicate sheen of Madalena's gown, but Isabella adjusts the grip on her sword and tenses, ready.

"Apparently it gives me ultimate control over every living thing. And do you know what I want right now?" Madalena asks, her mouth snapping into a snarl. "I want you to _kneel_," she says, and squeezes her fingers.

Isabella gasps. Something hits her like a cannonball, like waves, like fireworks -- warmth floods through her and she almost drops her sword, faltering forward a step as her muscles clench and release and she's floating, every ache gone --

It's over in seconds, and then Isabella swallows, and licks her licks, and says, "Um."

Madalena is frowning. "Perhaps you're stronger than I gave you credit for," she says. "How about _this_," she snaps, tightening her grip, and Isabella can't stop the groan low in her throat, can't stop herself squeezing her thighs together, her eyes fluttering shut because it's been so long, and, _oh, God_...

"What the fuck is going on?" Madalena says, and Isabella leans against the gritty wall and bites her lip and tries to gather herself back together. Her sword is loose in her hand. She's utterly failing at this, she's the worst, why did she even bother --

Isabella flaps a lazy hand at the fairy buzzing near her ear, and opens her eyes. Her chest is heaving.

"Oh God, is this really happening?" Madalena says, staring at her. "After everything I went through to get this, all it does is make people come on command?"

"Maybe try it one more time," Isabella murmurs, breathless and undone as she watches Madalena standing fierce and golden in the lantern light, and then she remembers who she's talking to. She staggers upright, and raises her sword. Madalena takes a step back.

"I think it's time you left," Isabella says, her voice stronger than she feels.

Madalena looks down, for a moment. Her hands had fallen to balled fists at her sides but now she raises them again, covering the amulet. Isabella inhales sharply, ready, but nothing else happens.

"No," Madalena says, looking up, and something about the light makes a knife-edge out of her expression. She steps forward, snake-like. "I think you owe _me_."

"What?" Isabella says, but Madalena waves one hand and her sword twists, yanking her wrist the wrong way and she yelps as she drops it. In the next breath Madalena has her shoved against the wall, crowding close with one hand against her throat, and Isabella's breath stutters, her pulse hammering against Madalena's skin.

"I have to admit," Madalena starts, the glint of her gaze flicking over her like a flame, "I kinda like the noises you just made."

"Oh," Isabella breathes, raising her chin, and finds herself looking at Madalena's mouth. She feels warm and wanting and open, something in her rising up towards Madalena like a seedling towards the sun. "I guess I could return the favour," she says, the thrill of it low in her spine, and meets Madalena's crashing kiss with a welcoming snarl.

(And if, later, she touches her fingertips to the amulet and uses it to cheat a little -- Well. No one complains.)


End file.
